


The Renown's Romance Act

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Actor - Freeform, Alternate Universe, Angst, Anime, Fake Dating, Gay, I plan on making things smokey, Internet Famous, M/M, Modeling, Mutual Pining, Paparazzi, Pining, Slow Burn, Stardom, dont be surprised, famous au, i kinda suck at writing ngl, kurotsuki - Freeform, paparazzi is a bitch, practically fake dating but not necessarily, probably some mutual pining, some serious lime, there’s gotta be some angst at some point, tsukishima kei is a gorgeous model here lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:02:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23366650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "Fuck me, seriously."9 AM sharp, yet the internet was already in turmoil. Tsukishima stared dreadfully at the laptop screen and at the sight of the obtrusively designed headline. Heavy stones of trepidation pummeled against Tsukishima's gut so much so that he could puke if he wanted.He was foolish to think that it wouldn't surface the internet. Purely naive to hope that paparazzi possessed any compass of human decency and respect. Because now, the media has been capsized into chaos.KUROO TETSUROU, 26, AND TSUKISHIMA KEI, 24, ARE... GAY LOVERS?Really couldn't have picked a more decent title?The talented, famous, and ever so indifferent supermodel, Tsukishima Kei, is sucked into what he thinks is the most unpleasurable situation he could have ever found himself in: the front page of every celebrity gossip magazine. How did he end up there? When a paparazzi snuck a photo of the bigshot actor, Kuroo Tetsurou, kissing him at a party. And instead of trying to extinguish rumors, Tsukishima's agency and Kuroo's agents decide to rake in the publicity with an unconfirmed (and fake) relationship.DISCONTINUED
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 41
Kudos: 155





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE POSTED 5/17/20:  
> Work discontinued...  
> Sorry, my inspo has just rusted out on this one.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I always have a hunch about things," Kuroo says, removing himself off the railing to face the blonde. "I can prove it because I have another hunch about you, Tsukishima Kei."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the first chapter!  
> Lol, this one's a rough one and not my proudest (I just edited it) but I promise it'll get better lmao.

There's no better feeling than waking up in one's own bed.

Sunlight dipped into the room through the crevice of the closely drawn curtains, and the air was harshly chill from the air-conditioning, wavering small speckles of dust around the room. The light was mellow, tranquil even. The first taste of peace that Tsukishima could savor since his trip back from the States.

And yet, he was so unpleasantly awoken by the sound of activity spurring in the kitchen. It was the kettle that pled guilty to the deed.

Tsukishima draws his eyes open with lids hooded and heavy from a light sleep. Though he could swear to himself he had slept a full night since getting home from his evening flight. Even when he sat up, he saw his jeans and sweatshirt carelessly abandoned on the cold wooden floor; acting as evidence of his desperation to hibernate in bed the first thing he got home. And it left Tsukishima in nothing but his t-shirt and boxers.

Once out of his bed and pulling sweats on from his wardrobe, Tsukishima opened his room door to be iced by an aggressive blow of air-conditioning (Japan's hot and humid summer weather has lingered into September), arguably more aggressive than his room.

He dragged his feet along the marbled floor to his kitchen where he saw Yamaguchi at the bar. The latter's eyes immediately glowed with a smile (practically like the damn sun) when Tsukishima emerged from the hall with narrowed eyes from stepping under bright light.

"Tsukki!!" Yamaguchi squeals, dominating the sound of the high-pitched hiss coming from the kettle on the stove. He even sprung up from his seat like a loose spring.

Though, Tsukishima remained with an unmoved attitude. "How'd you get in?" Tsukishima scratched at his aching neck, tilting it to the side in an attempt to relieve it of its strain. Damn, that eleven-hour flight really took Tsukki's back along with his will to live.

"Suga-chan gave me a key." Yamaguchi chuckles out with a slight hum before sticking his bottom lip into a pout. Tsukki's lack of excitement was something he has become accustomed to. But after Tsukishima had been gone for a three-week ad campaign in America with minimal contact, he (still) thought that maybe at least a fraction of enthusiasm could be expressed from the blonde. "He said to take care of you and your jet lag when you wake up." Then the freckled friend grimaced with hesitance at his next words. "Because you have a busy night tonight."

All Tsukishima could do was sigh curtly as if it was just a minor inconvenience. But the brevity of such a breath spoke the mass volume of his discontent. Ask his heavy limbs, and they'll agree.

In an attempt to treat the dark circles forming under his dear friend's eyes, Yamaguchi goes to the kettle to pour Tsukishima a cup of black tea. The drink was scalding hot when he slid the glass to Tsukishima, who was muttering to himself about how Sugawara wasn't his mom and didn't need to act like he was. It was perhaps because Suga couldn't go with Tsukishima as his agent to America, so he sent Yamaguchi to check on him instead. The motherly agent has been busier than usual, booking Tsukishima shoots and events at a rapid-fire pace.

"How was America?" Yamaguchi asks, walking to the living room window to allow light in through the curtains. Tsukishima parked himself onto a dining chair, blankly watching the steam float from his cup as if it was hypnotizing him.

"It was good," Tsukishima says dryly, his expression still dimmed with stoicism. He wasn't particularly lying when those words slid out his lips. Though the awaited elaboration never came.

Sometimes, one has to draw the conversation out of Tsukishima.

"What was good about it?" Yamaguchi's words were reeling down Tsukshima's throat, hooking and fishing out a conversation that he'd rather not spend his energy on speaking.

He had been invited and then accepted to participate in an ad campaign to encourage racial diversity in the fashion industry. Three weeks, consisting of photoshoots, then printing, then streaming and promoting the campaign. Three weeks of relentless social activity with people far bubblier than Tsukishima could pull off himself. Each conversation being filled with fast-speaking Americans who clearly overestimated Tsukki's English, making him want to commit a head-on collision with the nearest wall.

So he can't really say the experience with the people there was something to rave about.

"The cause." Tsukishima remains terse, but not a drop of sarcasm was behind it. Just the lack of desire to speak at such an ungodly hour (which were any hours before 11 AM in Tsukki's book). "The campaign had good cause."

And that was all he decided to say.

Although feeling defeated at the short-wordiness, Yamaguchi also decides not to prod. One more poke and Tsukki might just resort to blatant ignoring. So instead, he looked out at the city of Tokyo that was laid out before them; it's a good conversation escaper.

The private condo is almost qualified to be considered a penthouse, but it isn't as luxurious as others that are marketed as so. Living alone is isolating enough, and Tsukki doesn't need an even larger living space to remind just how alone he is by hearing the extended silence echoing through the marble. And plus, the view he has from the condo is fitted to his liking. Probably worth a million bucks if the sight of something was to be measured that way.

Any visitors Tsukki has, seem to like the view just as much as he does. Such as Yamaguchi, who was smiling with the ends of his lips curled high and his eyes sparkling like a glittered surface. The view overlooks the tops of buildings, city lights, and congested roads, extending far due to its high ground and causing the world to appear as an endless stretch. Except for such an expanding view, it also provides an excess of natural lighting. Summer mornings make Tsukki's living room glow like the gates of heaven.

Tsukishima blinked at the said light driving and diving its way into the room rather intrusively. But he can't necessarily rebuke light for doing what it does. His buffed furniture and marble floors glistened like glass, piercing through any eyes that look directly at it like precise lasers. A soured look appears on Tsukishima's face at this. His eyes hurt from where he was and he knew he was too tired for the living room to be throwing heavenly light in his face.

The chiming of Tsukishima's cell phone alerted him to go check on it which Tsukishima decided to do so. It was probably Suga, checking if he was awake.

Tsukishima silently left Yamaguchi to the view from the window and stumbled back into his room to grab his cell from the nightstand. It was in fact, Sugawara, the contact photo of his agent staring back at the squinted stare from the blonde. He answers the phone, preparing to gather an excuse as to why he should be given a day off on this particular day.

"Hey, Tsukki!" Suga's voice chimes happily on the other end. "Now, I know that you're probably gonna ask to be given a break today."

Tsukishima creased his brows silently in something none other than utter defeat. What Suga says, is what goes. And it's pretty inescapable no matter how much of a say Tsukishima may have on certain things. His hand rose to pinch his fingers on the bridge of his nose in order to cease and stabilize the exasperation bubbling through his gut.

Already feeling the silent discontent across the line, Suga continued with a cautious approach of sympathy in his voice. "I'm sorry, Tsukishima. I know you just got back from a long flight, but you can still rest up! Catch some shuteye because the party isn't until seven tonight."

"A party?" Tsukishima finally bit out his words as his features creased with displeasure. His tone was unmistakably sour with the accompaniment of his throat audibly closing in order to bite back any further complaints. Tsukishima wasn't even in the mood for his living room, so how could he possibly be in the mood for a party?

"A party," Suga repeats. "hosted by Bokuto! It's the four-year-anniversary of his talk show, 'Hey! Hey! Hey!'" A laugh from the agent ensued from the other end. But Tsukki certainly didn't laugh back. He didn't find anything amusing about what Suga was saying.

The last time Tsukishima saw Bokuto was almost exactly a year ago when Tsukishima had starred in a movie, once (emphasis on _once_ and only _once_ ), and was invited to be a guest on his show. Not exactly the worst experience he could have sat through, and he's sat through a lot (the first and last photoshoot he had for Japan's playboy magazine still holds the throne in that hall of fame). Tsukki could actually recall an almost endearing memory of that event. He was extra snarky at that time, and it was enough to have the film company cut ties with him, cold turkey. Zip, nada, _gone_. Which was fine, cause the movie was a load of dog shit.

"Fine, I'll go." Tsukishima sighs. He wrestled with his tone to suppress the reluctance he was feeling in saying so. He bit his tongue to cease the doubt from pooling out his lips and into spoken words, such a defeat-feeding action.

"Awesome!" Suga cheers against Tsukishima's ear. But he, on the other hand, was feeling quite bitter. "The car will be there at half-past six. And I'll be there too, of course!"

"Yeah, yeah." Tsukishima's voice peters out as he sat at the edge of his bed. He let himself sink into the mattress as all his mind could do was insistently look for a way to fake an illness of some sort in order to dig his way out of the evening plans. But a part of him didn't want to be lame like that. He'll just have to walk through scorching coals; endure it even if it absolutely sucks ass.

Suga says a word of goodbye, Tsukishima barely returns it, and then the call ends.

Hand slumping down beside him, Tsukishima falls back against the soft surfaces of his comforter to meet a stare from the ceiling. The pure bliss of his duvet wrapping around him pushes a content sigh out of the blonde's mouth, a light smile even gracing his lips. He knew to savor his long-awaited reunion with his bed because it would be a while before he'd be able to meet with it again.

\--

The party is a hot pot of celebrities.

Every angle and perspective Tsukishima looked could be the cover of the next _HotShot_ magazine. Everyone's faces screamed of popularity and fame as if their social status was just hovering over their heads.

"You want anything to drink?" Suga asks through a side glance up at Tsukishima.

"I can get it myself," Tsukishima mutters out without meeting the eager look of his agent.

"It doesn't hurt be a little dependent, Tsukishima," Suga swings a pat on Tsukishima's shoulder as a rather aggressive gesture of assurance. "Now what are ya feeling?"

With a huff of a sigh, Tsukishima could only submit. "A scotch with lime."

That sends Suga to stride off towards the bar that wrapped around the entire rooftop.

Leaning against a wooden canopy, Tsukishima faced the bulk of the party: the rooftop of a loaded entertainment studio. An even taller building was directly adjacent (attached to the hip, in fact) to the rooftop which led to another section of the action inside the building. Glows of blue tainted Tsukishima's pale expression from the pool at the center of it all.

Models (all female) waded around the water in brazen bikinis and perfect skin, practically basking in the attention they were receiving from hungry bachelors. Though they all looked the same. Airbrushed-looking skin, long moppy hair, tall. What was so special? Not to mention, music played powerfully with a thunderous bass that could induce a cardiac arrest if one got just a step too close to the speakers.

And all Tsukishima could do was hide out in a corner like some stray cat. Others find it humorous how indifferent he is in person despite carrying a famous name and profession.

"Hey, hey, hey!" The voice was no other than Bokuto's. No other voice could possess the decibels capable of overpowering a blast of music amidst a party.

Tsukishima flinched when he turned and saw the host just right over his shoulder (talk about personal space). Bokuto snatched Tsukishima's hand from beside him and pulled him into something that was meant to be a masculine 'bro' hug. But it turned out to be an awkward gesture that was synonymous with a puppy being pulled on a leash against its will.

"Loosen up, no one here bites." Bokuto grins with all his pearly teeth, a throaty and mischievous chuckle echoing as an undertone. He five-stars a palm on Tsukishima's back, earning a stumble forward from the tall model.

Tsukishima gives Bokuto a bitter look due to his expense, but the grin from Bokuto was stuck on, oblivious to the discomfort in the blonde's face.

"No need for pouting! I suggest getting familiar with one of the lucky ladies in the pool if you wanna start warming up to the place." Bokuto laughs overzealously. His brows nudged and wiggled over to the water in hopes of capturing the blonde's interest, only to get the opposite. "You look like a scared cat in this corner! Is this really the same Tsukishima Kei that aired on my show last year?"

"I just got back from a trip. I don't feel like being an ass at the moment." Tsukishima says gravelly. His eyebrow even twitched from the aggressive caffeine intake before Suga arrived with their ride.

"Tsukishima!" Suga was back with two glasses, handing one over to him. "Here's your drink."

Tsukishima mumbles thanks and takes the glass from the silver-headed man. Suga and Bokuto greeted each other in courtesy before Suga urges his drink into the model's hand. He thoughtlessly takes the glass and the agent immediately starts straightening out the collar of the hoodie that Tsukishima had on underneath an unbuttoned denim jacket.

"The hell, Suga-san..." The space between Tsukishima's brows crinkles with discomfort. This is something his mom would do to his polo shirt every Sunday before church. When he was eight.

"This is a nice outfit, and you need to get caught looking your best," Suga advises with an inspecting look dragging down Tsukishima's appearance- a nice pair of black jeans, a light wash denim jacket over a grey hoodie, and white Adidas- and takes back his drink from Tsukishima's hand with a curved lip. "Media is here for a few shots of the party. It's planned to be a featured topic in next week's publishment."

"Who says I have to be in it?" Tsukishima looks off to avoid giving an adverse stare at Suga. He raises his glass to take a sip of the scotch, the leathery taste helping him bite back any unnecessary protest.

"It's a passing chance." Suga smiles lightheartedly, pressing a nudge of his elbow into Tsukishima to earn his gaze back. "You don't want to be caught having a bad moment."

"I'm not having a bad moment." Tsukishima narrowed his eyes in innocent defense. "And I won't be." He mutters.

A hand reaches out and seizes (as in _seizes_ ) Tsukishima's right shoulder with such abrupt force that it practically sent all the caffeine in his body to scamper away into oblivion. Upon looking up, it was Bokuto puffing his chest out with great confidence as if trying to offer Tsukishima a share. Though, Tsukishima already has his own.

Bokuto's grip on Tsukishima's shoulder tightened. "Say it with me, Tsukki." Tsukishima immediately protests against being called by that nickname, but the determined host continues. "Say it as you mean it when you say: I will have so much fun tonight that I will get blackout drunk and wake up on a stranger's couch with no regret and thank no other than Bokuto Koutarou for the party invite of a lifetime." A prideful (though misplaced) grin stretches onto his lips with glimmering eyes at the thought.

There was no way Tsukishima would ever (or could ever) agree to something as brazen as that. He doesn't think Suga would even allow him to. He might as well be dead by murder at the hands of his agent before he even gets to wake up with any such regret (or the lack thereof).

"I don't think the blackout drunk and couch part should be encouraged." Predictably, Suga protests with a nervous smile, causing Bokuto to erupt in a peal of boisterous laughter while slapping the back of the tall blonde humorously. Does Tsukishima just have 'human punching bag' written on his damn forehead or something?

"My, my, sounds like another party over here." An all too familiar voice smoothly enters the conversation. And upon seeing their face, Tsukishima could immediately recognize who it is. It's a doubtless fact that anyone would know his name just as quickly. Hell, probably even quicker. "Bokuto, your laugh really makes a party of its own, ah? Brings such life!"

All said right in front of Tsukishima's blank and _lifeless_ expression.

"Hey, hey, hey! It's Oikawa Tooru!" Bokuto shifts his slapping hand from Tsukishima's back to Oikawa's back (much to Tsukishima's content) as the brunette plays it off with charms and chuckles like he's always done. His mocha-brown eyes reach Tsukishima's golden ones, a silent and mutual acknowledgment being exchanged.

Oikawa mutters something to Bokuto about being needed for the 'cake cutting' preparation in the building. And off the host went in a straight holler across the courtyard like it was some damn wedding or birthday celebration. But it came as no surprise since Bokuto likes to treat his show like it's his precious child.

A type of friendly smile emerges from Oikawa's lips; too friendly to be considered comfortable. "And isn't that a sight?" His head angles sideways and eyes skim over Tsukishima briefly. "It's none other than the supermodel of the decade, Tsukishima Kei." That line sounds like it was sold from the script of _Mean Girls_. Oikawa might as well have sashayed his way into the conversation in high fucking heels.

Tsukishima doesn't return a smile, finding Oikawa Tooru's personality to be overbearing from what he's seen on TV (not a special case. Tsukishima can find practically anyone to have an overbearing personality) even before meeting him for the first time at this very moment. So he returns the same level of condescending shit.

"Well, well, it's none other than the actor of the decade, Oikawa Tooru." Though, Tsukishima was lacking the fluctuating tone of the handsome star. The words tasted sour at the thought that he had probably just inflated the star's ego by another peg or two. And that he just pulled what would have been equivalent to a high school girl's best (failing) attempt at sounding like some hair-whipping badass.

Ugh, gross. Tsukishima might as well just go home at this point.

"Oh, you flatter me." Oikawa smiles with genuine gratitude before running a hand through his soft brown hair. His gaze shifts to Suga. "And you must be the agent." And even gives a wink.

Apparently his flirts aren't restricted to females. Or maybe it's cause he knows Suga's gay. Wow, equality. How charitable.

"None other than me." Suga smiles while nodding. The agent urges Tsukishima's arm ahead with a subtle glance to initiate a handshake, much to his unwillingness to do so. Cause despite Suga not being quite a fan of Oikawa either, he still found it essential to share a proper greeting.

But Oikawa had beat him to it by offering an outstretched hand and a sideways smirk. Tsukishima found it cursed that he perceived such a shit-eating expression to be somewhat attractive (fuck you homosexuality). He took the actor's hand and gave it a cursory shake before having his hand retreat back to his side.

"I heard you just got back from the States, Tsukishima," Oikawa says. "Tell me about it. Should I be following that campaign?"

Before Tsukishima could even inquire as to how he even knew that, he realized how silly of a question that would be. But Oikawa could read his expression like a book.

"Don't tell me you don't follow me back?" Oikawa feigns offense with a dramatic gasp.

"Frankly, I don't," Tsukishima replies with his brows going in opposite directions. But to be honest, he didn't even know that the guy was following him on his socials.

All Tsukishima knew was that he didn't want to be trapped in the conversation.

"I'm going to ask the bartender for more lime." Tsukishima excuses himself from Suga and Oikawa without waiting for a reply of compliance. He blatantly walks away towards the far end of the bar, past a few clusters of people, that glowed with steadily changing neon-colored lights.

He sat at a stool, not requesting for lime as he said he would. That was clearly a scapegoat reason to book it from that strange corner with the company of Oikawa Tooru. He instead stared up at the glass wall (that acted as a railing of the roof) of liquor and alcoholic beverages that were racked up on display. And behind the glass was backed with a chain-linked fence that caged the property in from the outside city.

Tsukishima wished he could look down at the view. But he can't do so unless he was behind the counter as a bartender.

He turned back to face the archaic scene before him of people either dancing, conversing, or sipping on their alcoholic beverages like it was a British tea party. Tsukishima much preferred a view of the city than a view of this chaos. And his head was even starting to fancy a headache. Was it from exhaustion? Alcohol? Whatever the reason, it sucked.

This is when camera flashes started popping up like popcorn in the eyes. Which only agitated the migraine that was gathering in Tsukishima's skull.

Tsukishima couldn't comprehend why Bokuto's bright idea of letting the media snap a few shots of a private venue like this was allowed. He's basically asking for paparazzi to sneak in and stay a little longer than they're comfortably allowed to.

Another flash of a camera assaults Tsukishima's eyes, but this time it was of closer proximity. Looking where it came from, the photographer was by a canopy, snapping shots of a game of chicken in the pool that ended disastrously with someone plunging into the water, fully clothed. When the photographer raised from his kneeled position and looked down at the photo he just snapped on his camera, Tsukishima immediately told himself to go die in a hole. Because he recognized who the photographer was.

It was one of Japan's most artistic and talented photographers, Akaashi Keiji. Or rather, in Tsukki's life, his ex-boyfriend.

Akaashi's gaze lifted from his camera and found Tsukishima's, sharing a fraction of a second of eye contact before Tsukishima turned away, his glass of scotch already lifted to his lips in order to play it off as a casual coincidence of acknowledgment. But really, his gut soured as if a bath bomb just plunged into his stomach acid. His heart may as well drop out his asshole.

"Shit." He mumbled against the glass, taking the smallest sip he could possibly consider sipping at the moment. His face soured with embarrassment because he was certain that Akaashi caught his glance.

Tsukishima hadn't seen his very attractive ex in over a year since they broke it off; after not one, but two years of being together in a relationship.

A heavy stone of dread dropped in Tsukki's chest at the thought of encountering Akaashi again this very night or being tangled up in a conversation with him. Memories of a past relationship were the last thing Tsukishima wanted on his mind at this time, or ever at all. Especially a serious one like this one. No, not today depression.

Out of desperation of ceasing a plaguing reminiscence, Tsukishima raises his glass- bottoms up- and downs the rest of the scotch (dangerous move, Tsukki. You done messed up). The taste of burnt leather was a waterfall down his throat, crackling on his tastebuds like excited firecrackers. Inebriation was languidly entering Tsukishima's system, appeasing his head of unwanted thoughts. Though, it made his migraine worse.

Even so, he doesn't resist to order another glass.

\--

Under a dark oak canopy with bright lanterns strung around the roof, it gave enough image to be passed off as a gathering atop a patio. It's been a good two or three hours into the party and this particular congregation was of an exclusive group. And Tsukishima sat in one of the padded couches next to Iwaizumi Hajime, Oikawa's agent, with a shrewd face.

Diagonally right from their couch was another that was occupied by a rather hectic pair: both star actors, Kuroo Tetsurou and Oikawa. And directly across from Tsukishima was Suga and his long-term boyfriend, Sawamura Daichi, Japan's national men's volleyball athlete. The pair were rather cuddly, Suga having had enough wine for the night and retiring his head onto Daichi's shoulder.

And at the center of them all, was a coffee table supporting an intense game of Uno. A World War may as well start here because a game of Uno never really tends to end well. But at least it wasn't Monopoly. Tsukishima can swear that celebrities will put their real money on the line instead of using the fake Monopoly money. Because they're just that filthy rich.

Thankfully, the game was frequently sidetracked by various occurrences, such as a booming conversation whenever Oikawa persistently chastised Kuroo for his unfair attacks on the brunette.

"You're peeking at my cards!" Oikawa's voice piped, being turned directly towards the raven-haired star to hide his cards. And how was Kuroo during all this? He was laughing like a damn goof and making a fool of Oikawa, which Tsukishima found favorable.

"The entire world may have their eyes on you, Oikawa, but luckily I'm out of this world." Kuroo quirked up a brow, a jestful grin playing at his lips. "I'm just too good for you on this one." His feline eyes scrutinized Oikawa's witty remarks that the latter was cleverly tossing back. This may as well be a two-person brawl.

Aside from that though, conversations would get lost on each other's recent successes. So much so that they would occasionally be stuck on the same round for a prolonged amount of time.

"Ah, Daichi, how has the team been? Practices faring well?" Kuroo turns to the couple, diverting his attention away from Oikawa after committing a 'draw four' on him.

Daichi's expression turned sheepish at the inquiry. "Faring better than earlier in the month." He had a hand on Suga's knee and thumbed it affectionately. Suga listened to the rumbles of his boyfriend's voice on his shoulder, eyes blinking closed from a doze. He's quite a lightweight. "The season is going to look bright. Hopefully brighter than the last."

"Hey, hey, you always have the next season if this one doesn't coin as well." Kuroo swipes a friendly pat on Daichi's shoulder, stirring Suga awake.

"Iwa-chan, want to tell them what you booked me for the summer?" Oikawa asks, conspicuously and offhandedly. He just has to hear it from someone else.

Iwaizumi replies gruffly with: "Don't ask me to toot your horn when you can just do it yourself," then takes a sip of his drink. "I'm not gonna kiss up to your own ass upon command."

"Iwa-chan, mean!" Oikawa pouts. But it quickly turns to a crass grin. "I suppose I could say it myself?"

"He's starring in one of Ukai's adaptations in June." Just like that, Iwaizumi earns a betrayed glare from Oikawa. But the agent merely wore a smug smirk. "Had to show you what it feels like to have your thunder stolen like candy, shittykawa."

Oikawa's chiding and everyone's congrats being thrown at the star was merely being observed by Tsukishima, who was on the edge seat of the gathering. His silence was half produced from his innate nature of indifference, but also from his migraine that had deteriorated in the last hour. His skull felt like it was between two joining hydraulic presses that were aimed at either side of his head. The blonde's fingers circulate around his temples so persistently in an attempt to appease the pain, that he didn't realize that Oikawa had turned the subject on him.

All eyes were on the blonde, and Tsukki's brain short-circuited.

"Come again?" The model asks. Though his tone came off as brash and intentional.

With a stiff look, Oikawa repeats himself. "You're the supermodel of the decade, aren't you?" There's that line again.

"Says who?" Tsukki wipes on an offhand attitude, not appreciating the buttering up of his fame.

"Ah, come on, Tsukishima, learn to take praise!" Kuroo waves a hand insistently towards Tsukishima's way. "You're successful! You're not dawdling around like any other people your age. I mean, look how young you are!"

Tsukishima frowned; the first significant change in features that Kuroo has observed from the man. "I'm not that much younger than you guys."

"You guys?" Iwaizumi echoes.

Tsukishima hadn't realized it, but he's the youngest out of everyone there.

"You're at an international level of fame, Tsukishima," Daichi says. "Truly, that's something to take pride in!"

Tsukishima wasn't aware of how the conversation diverted into a lecture. He's very aware of his fame and how lucky he is for it, but he doesn't find the need to make it his entire identity. Having started modeling fresh out of high school, and being rocketed into popularity four years back from a shoot that Akaashi took of him, it all happened so fast. And now he isn't even a model, he is what's considered a _super_ model.

And he found it obnoxious to be talking up your own fame.

"Denying the fact that you're the shit makes you seem so pretentious, Tsukki-chan." Oikawa clicks his tongue disappointedly. Tsukishima bites out a protest against being called by the intimate nickname.

"You're one to speak, Oikawa-san." Tsukishima's lips curl into a sour curve. "As ostentatious as you are."

Oikawa grinned at the blonde grimly. "I know what I am, at least."

"Then what does that make me?" Tsukishima asks.

Oikawa's face shifted to show feigned thoughtfulness before saying shallowly, "An American boy~." And he gave a flirty wink, leaving Tsukishima blank-faced.

Kuroo laughed a little too exuberantly. Like damn, is it that funny? "Yeah, yeah! American boy!-" Tsukishima scowled. "-The Americans really like this one, right here. New York's fashion week sure likes to kiss his ass."

Tsukishima hated the credibility behind Kuroo's claim. He's been invited three years in a row to sport some designer clothes for a few shots.

"And he just came back from LA last night," Oikawa says.

_Just gotta tell the whole damn world, don't ya?_

"Wahhh, LA is so hot!" Daichi marvels. "It's all heat and aridness. All year round!"

It seemed like Tsukishima was sitting in on a fan club meeting by the sounds of his resume being said aloud. He had considered stopping them, but perhaps this was his personal way of taking praise; in silence. He lifted his glass to take a sip, but in one instantaneous and swift second, the side of his head pulsed with pain. Tsukishima visibly flinched with a hand flying up to the spot right behind his ear.

Kuroo, noticing this, asks "Isn't that your third scotch? Aren't you feeling hit?" The raven-haired man was quite impressed with Tsukishima's ability to handle a drink like scotch, among other things he's observed from him. He's rather appalled that the young model wasn't slurring or stumbling among himself.

Drawing his hand away from his head, Tsukishima's brow creased in an oddly defensive way. "No." Tsukishima is certainly not a lightweight when it comes to alcohol. He didn't feel drunk, but he definitely felt tired. Especially with a worsening migraine. Like shit, this is for sure _not_ his night.

"Tsukki, take it easy on the alcohol," Suga advises in a soft voice. The agent knew how often Tsukishima can overestimate his alcohol tolerance. "You might not know you're inebriated until you get up."

"I'm fine, as chipper as a bird," Tsukishima says dismissively and defiantly takes another sip of the leathery liquid.

The Uno match was resumed once again, and everyone who's playing return to shielding their cards and mercilessly attacking the person next to them with a drawing card. Watching the game like a perched bird, Tsukishima was mute. The reason being that his head was spinning with inebriation as if the mention of it triggered it to kick into his system.

_Shit, get a grip. Don't let it sneak up on you._

A rumbled chuckle was directed his way. "He's probably done for the night." Kuroo's voice coos babyishly. He leaned against his elbow propped on a knee, peering under to catch the golden-eyed glare of the model. "Such a cute baby." He amused a laugh upon receiving a scowl from Tsukishima. Gross.

He was certainly spacing out, but not falling asleep. "I'm not." He looks down at Kuroo's glass across from him. "Haven't you been having scotch too?"

Kuroo had followed Tsukishima's eyes and picked up his glass, swiveling it around to gently tornado the liquid. "It's only my second, being savored slow and steady." He takes a quick sip before showing a false, Cheshire grin. "And I'm your senior. So it'd be embarrassing if I couldn't handle any less alcohol than you."

_What kinda idea is that?_

"Two years doesn't put you on that high of a pedestal." Tsukishima retorts. He found Kuroo's feline eyes uncomfortably attentive. Something about his hazel eyes grappling for Tsukishima's returned attention really fogged his wits.

Out of nowhere, Kuroo's stare blatantly lingered down and back up at Tsukishima's form, as if observing every nerve and move he was making. Like a cat, scrutinizing its prey. Tsukishima tensed his shoulders at this, sealing his throat of any air. Something lurched in his gut that felt too close to butterflies, and Tsukishima prayed that it was just the alcohol acting up.

"He's pretty defiant, isn't he?" Kuroo side-eyes towards Suga, who only gave a mere chuckle and small credit to his statement. Tsukishima felt belittled and inferior in the conversation, much irking him.

"I didn't know actors thought so highly of themselves." Tsukishima grits out, also shooting a purposeful glare at Oikawa to hold him guilty to the claim as well. But he forces an asshole grin in order to mask himself crumbling from Kuroo's stare. "Your egos are so above you, it blocks the sunlight. So why don't you spare us some?"

Kuroo peals with laughter, nudging Oikawa beside him and chattering with "You hear that, Oikawa? He's talking about us!" while Oikawa joined him with a smug smile. This reminded Tsukki too much of his uncles at his family's annual Fourth of July parties where any breath heard is pure comedy.

_He's clearly had too much to drink for the night._

Tsukisima clicks his tongue and eye rolls. "How annoying." The hazel eyes were snapped back to him and Tsukishima tried not to meet the gaze.

"Oya, don't become what you're judging others for, Tsu-ki-shi-mia." Kuroo drags out the syllables of his name in a lecherous tone. His voice even dipped into a deep rumble akin to seduction, and Tsukishima did a fraction of a flinch as his features pressed together with fluster. What the fuck, that was really gay.

What was worse was that Tsukishima couldn't find anything to say back. He could only stare bemusingly.

The elephant has grown in the room, causing silence to befall the space. Because Tsukishima is sure that everyone just noticed how low-key flirty Kuroo got with him. So damn shameless, does he not feel uncomfortable?

Only someone like Oikawa would decide to cut the tension like a cleaver to a stick of butter (yes, you read that correctly). "Is it just me, or has it gotten hot out here?" Oikawa's eyes darted between the two celebrities' stares and churlishly smiled at Tsukishima's glare that immediately shot towards him. "Sexy~" he muttered audibly.

Iwaizumi lightly kicked at the brunette's ankle (who winced girlishly) to silence his obnoxious antics.

Tsukishima's lips slightly opened to gather a response in spite, but nothing came out. Kuroo chuckled lowly with a resonant tone at the blonde's expense, seeming to enjoy the look of confused fluster that graced the blonde's features.

"The cat's got your tongue." Kuroo licks his lips and takes another graceful sip of scotch. The actor had eased back into his seat but didn't disengage his view of Tsukishima.

 _God, I hate this_.

Clearly defeated and feeling everyone's stare, Tsukishima looked away and just grumbled quietly with gritted teeth.

"Hey, hey, hey! It's a campout here!" Bokuto's presence bursts and clears through the rigidity in the air that everyone found as a rescue. Everyone was back to laughter with great volume that increased naturally just by being with the flamboyant host. Much to Tsukishima's dismay, his migraine finally starts to reach an unbearable point.

Tsukishima lifts himself off the seat and walks over to Suga's side, catching the silver-headed man's attention. "Do you have any aspirins on you?"

"No, sorry." Suga's face contorts softly into concern with pressed brows. "Are you okay? You don't look so good."

"Yeah, it's just a headache."

Suga slaps a berating hand on Tsukishima's arm. "That's why I said to stop with the alcohol." The agent's lip pouted up at the tall model. "But taking medicine with the amount of alcohol you've had might not be safe, so I wouldn't advise it for the night."

With a small huff of a sigh, Tsukishima starts walking away from the canopy. Suga asks where he's going, concerned for his ability to walk.

"I'll be back. I just need some quiet for a bit."

\--

The cold water did nothing but drench Tsukishima's forehead.

The migraine hadn't ceased but was definitely distilled into a mere headache. But for the sake of extra measures, Tsukishima ran his hands under cold water and splashed it behind his scorching neck. The party inside the building was far more crowded than the one on the rooftop, but the heat on Tsukishima's skin was unnaturally burning. It left him worried that he might've caught a fever.

_Shit, things aren't looking so great. It's so hot and I can't even stand without feeling like I'm on a fucking tightrope of doom._

The alcohol was probably not benefiting Tsukishima's state as he concluded to himself that he's probably caught a cold from somewhere in the congested LAX airport. Damn it, California.

Tsukishima considered asking Suga to call a ride for him since he wasn't in the brightest shape to be calling one himself. But he didn't want to go back to the canopy and be scrutinized by the god-bearing face of Kuroo Tetsurou. The man's a famous actor, insanely attractive, and has got stacks of millions under his belt, probably. The title associated with his fame, it's intimidating in itself aside from his intimidating features too.

_Why are you even thinking about that douche?_

Tsukishima groans down at the running water in the sink. His hands rested against either side of the porcelain structure, hypnotically watching the tap whirlpool down the drain. His mind swirled like a broken record, replaying the moments back at the canopy. Kuroo had eyed him down like he was some object. Like the guy was a critic and Tsukishima was a work of art. Or rather, as if he could see right into the indifferent blonde. Or maybe the look on his face was curiosity.

_Curiosity is what killed the cat._

Chuckling to himself, Tsukishima turns the water off and fits his Ray-Bans glasses back onto his face. He wipes away droplets of water that steamed on his pale skin as his complexion was starting to tinge a hint of pink. He really hoped that he was wrong and that fever hasn't overtaken him.

 _Please let it just be the alcohol_.

Three glasses of scotch was not a bright idea, and regrettably, Suga was absolutely correct in the model overestimating his alcohol tolerance. And now he for sure can't go back to the canopy cause if Kuroo saw him, he'd probably make fun of him for his blushed cheeks. But first of all, why was he even worried about that?

The actor's raven bedhead hair, sharp jawline, and mischievous lips. They all melded so perfectly together and to think, that a douche (calling him a douche comforted Tsukki in an odd way) like him was blessed with such a face. And Tsukishima hated that it had left an imprint on his mind because he wasn't even sure if Kuroo is actually into men. And did he somehow know that Tsukishima is?

When Tsukishima stepped out of the bathroom, he scowled at the number of people partying indoors and gathering sweat. The strobe lights were intense, clashing with the aggressive camera flashes of paparazzi that threatened to bring back the migraine that Tsukishima was just able to fend off. He made his way through the edge of the crowded expanse of drunk, rich, and wild celebrities that were probably getting off on the dance floor and making the room reek of suppressed depression and booze. Tsukishima found it amusing that he was starting to consider going back to the canopy instead of dealing with this hell.

But he found himself stumbling against his own feet and into a room behind a wall of plaques, and it was probably the saving grace that Tsukishima was praying to the gods for. It was an open balcony that overlooked a view of the city, which was just what he needed and was craving the whole night through.

The blonde sighed with heaving relief. He stripped his denim jacket off his back and rolled the sleeves of his sweatshirt hoodie up to release heat crackling under his skin there. He feels like he's just escaped the underside of a heated griddle. Angling his chin up with closed eyelids, Tsukishima let the breeze tame the potential fever that was cooking up on the surface. The first piece of near-silence was sweet in his ears, causing a pleasant grin to rise on his lips.

"I knew you'd stumble into a place like this sooner or later." A deep voice rumbled behind him, immediately gaining Tsukishima's golden-eyed gaze. "Strays like you tend to like seclusion."

Tsukishima disregards Kuroo with a glowering look. This prompts him to stand beside Tsukishima, joining him in gazing at the city. In silence. Both holding onto the cold railing and leaning their weight against their grip.

"I guess you've decided to hate me now," Kuroo mutters. But when Tsukishima looked over at him, he was pleasantly smiling with closed lips. Not the least bit fazed by Tsukishima's unfriendly coldness.

He could see a faint glow of the moonlight on Kuroo's face, highlighting every single handsome feature he possessed. His cheeks barely told of inebriation, in fact, he looked deceivingly sober. He was adorned in black fitted slacks and a red satin button-down, sleeves folded up to elbows, the blazer from earlier having been abandoned. The top two buttons were undone, giving Tsukishima a tempting view of his sculpted collarbone. Tsukishima imagined that it was hard for Kuroo to go out in public. His face was just made to be famous. If he didn't get attention for his fame, he would be getting attention for how handsome he is.

Kuroo caught Tsukishima's stare and took the opportunity to shoot him a quick look down and back up that made Tsukishima's heart skip. He stood a few centimeters shorter than Tsukishima, though, the difference was unnoticeable.

"What's your deal with me?" Tsukishima asks suspiciously. Surely, the actor wouldn't just do what he's doing for the hell of it. "What do you want?"

An obscure shrug came from the star, hazel eyes drifting off. Not with anxiety, but with relaxed thought. "Just checking on you, since you didn't come back. I thought maybe I said something for you to scramble off and hide."

A grumbled sigh vibrates in Tsukki's throat as he brought a hand up to rub his face. "It wasn't you. I've had a migraine all night." Then he chuckled with opportunity. "You egotistical bastard." He really thought that Tsukishima left because of him.

Kuroo snickers, dropping his head down and raking a hand through his perfectly mussed hair. This was making Tsukki gulp with gay thoughts. Cause goddamn he's _hot_.

"You wanna know something?" Kuroo leans slightly into Tsukishima's space, their arms now touching. He smells like tobacco and campfire, like pure masculinity. It was difficult for Tsukki to not just inhale the scent altogether.

"What?" Tsukishima replies as dryly as he can.

"I think you're egotistical too," Kuroo says lowly with a slight purr at the back of his throat.

Tsukishima flinched, defense rising in his chest. "And why's that?"

"You're one of the quiet ones." Kuroo leans away from Tsukki's space, angling his head in such a way that Tsukishima could see his unfairly sharp jawline. "The one who only watches and judges people in their heads. Gurgling in their sullen thoughts but never saying them. Because you think silence is the opposite of egocentrism."

Well damn, Tsukishima didn't expect to be called out so harshly. He wasn't exactly hurt, just a bit thrown off by Kuroo's acute intuition.

"What brought you to that conclusion?" Tsukishima frowns, feeling violated by such inspection.

"I had a hunch." Kuroo shrugs again. "I'm good with my hunches. Why else do you think I kept beating Oikawa back there?"

Unimpressed, Tsukishima's brows quirk in opposite directions. "Hunches?" He then chuckles. "Did you ever have 'the hunch' you'd become a famous handsome asshole?"

Kuroo's face was painted with a knowing look. "You bet it." And he savored Tsukishima's backhanded compliment.

"Nonsense."

"I always have a hunch about things," Kuroo says, removing himself off the railing to face the blonde. "I can prove it because I have another hunch about you, Tsukishima Kei."

"And that is?" Tsukishima asks doubtfully. All he could make sense of Kuroo's words was that it was churlish but somewhat intriguing.

And so Tsukishima is caught by utter surprise when Kuroo steps into his space, a hand sliding onto the model's waist intimately and with no warning. Wow, the gay meter is _really_ blowing off right now. Was it a mistake? Had he tripped? But no, his movements were very deliberate. He was doing it on purpose.

A blush rushes to Tsukki's face, the fever returning to his body. He couldn't really move, because he was either awestruck or confused into immobilization. Kuroo's stare seared into Tsukishima's, half-lidded and unmistakably lustful. He gently pulls Tsukki in with a clenched grip on his hoodie to plant a solid kiss on his lips, tongue grazing against the soft skin there. Tsukki slightly gasped, and his bottom lip brushes back into Kuroo's with surprise. The former's lips reacted to the sensation with a speeding heart, but his thoughts were just the opposite.

 _Click_.

At the faint sound of a camera, Tsukishima immediately shoves the actor off him like a burst bubble, and he stumbles back with the alcohol sneaking up on his stability. He was wide awake now, and his fingers raised to touch the spot where Kuroo had just kissed him. The look of shock was slightly distorted in Tsukishima's features.

"You like guys, don't you?" Kuroo's hands slid in his pant pockets, watching the model carefully for any sign of confirmation or denial.

_What the fuck is this guy._

Without the satisfaction of a response, Tsukishima takes his jacket from the railing and speeds past Kuroo without even sparing him a look. His cheeks were feverish again, and he couldn't tell if his guts were telling frustration or twisted excitement. "Shut up, I'm leaving." And he hurries out the room.

And what's even worse was that paparazzi had caught them. That click was unmistakably the sound of a camera. Panic bubbled in Tsukishima's chest along with his heartbeat violently thumping against his ribs. His mind circled with curses being thrown at Kuroo as he made his way out to the rooftop, and it felt like he just stepped out of a dream. But he wasn't going back to the canopy, and instead, was going to ask Suga to call him a ride. Or hell, he should just call one himself after being blown awake by that kiss. 

But his gut lurched once again, this time with anxiety, at the remembrance of the paparazzi's camera clicking behind Kuroo when the unexpected and unconsented moment happened.

_Shit. Shit, shit, shit!_

But there was no use searching for the culprit. And instead, he could only pray that he would wake up the next morning without the image having surfaced the internet.

\--

"Fuck me, seriously."

9 AM sharp, yet the internet was already in turmoil. Tsukishima stared dreadfully at the laptop screen and at the sight of the obtrusively designed headline. Heavy stones of trepidation pummeled against Tsukishima's gut so much so that he could puke if he wanted.

He was foolish to think that it wouldn't surface the internet. Purely naive to hope that paparazzi possessed any compass of human decency and respect. Because now, the media has been capsized into chaos.

**KUROO TETSUROU, 26, AND TSUKISHIMA KEI, 24, ARE... GAY LOVERS?**

Really couldn't have picked a more decent title?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Easy! Go on a few fake dates, give obscure answers to eager questions, reel in the paparazzi with the bait, and BAM!" Yaku's last word is explosively emphasized. "Hook, line, and sink. Both parties get the benefit of mad publicity."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is good everyone??  
> This coronavirus quarantine paired with online school gives me loads of time to write things up. Also, reading your guys' comments makes me so unbelievably ecstatic and excited to work! Didn't expect this story to pick up notice quickly! Haha, I still feel like I’m not the best writer but I try my best :))
> 
> If have any questions or thoughts, feel free to lmk :))

Tsukishima did end up puking a few minutes afterward.

Not just from sheer anxiety, but from an apparent stomach bug that plagued him overnight. After retching into the toilet till the muscles in his core ached, Tsukishima dizzily called his agent who was already planning on coming over to discuss the viral article.

Now, Tsukishima sat at his bed, back to the headboard and a blanket cocooning his legs.

"You sure are burning up," Suga says with knitted brows. His hand was feeling Tsukishima's forehead at the same time his other hand was on his own to compare their temperatures. Tsukishima's features were marred with fatigue and his nose was blushed with an ill pink. His slender form slouched with depleted energy, all while his skin was on fire.

"I feel like shit," Tsukishima grumbles with a thermometer protruding out his mouth. He relaxed his head into Sugawara's gradually heating palm, practically being held up by the man. He could die right there and he wouldn't have any qualms about it.

"Well, you kinda look like... shit." The words were hesitant coming out of Suga's mouth as if he might hurt the blonde's feelings. But if anything, Suga was feeling nagging guilt for advising Tsukki to attend the party the night before.

Tsukishima groaned before coughing into the blanket on his lap miserably, followed by a thick sniffle. Yeah, he was in some deep shit. The hand on the model's forehead suddenly pulls away without warning, causing him to almost drop forward into his own lap before catching himself.

The numbers blinked on the metal-tipped thermometer, Suga inspecting it in his hand. "Wowza, you're at 38.6 degrees." Suga's eyes widened at the number.

"Huh." Tsukishima found himself chuckling at his expense. His head felt like a volcano on the brink of eruption. He looks up at his agent, a crooked smile on his lips. "Can I have a break _now_ , Suga-san?"

"Don't even inquire that." Suga playfully flicks at Tsukishima's forehead, barely receiving a response from him. Cause it was obvious that not even a worst enemy would put Tsukishima to work under his current condition. "I'll get you a cold rag from the kitchen."

"Yessir," Tsukishima slurs lazily, eyes slowly sliding over to the laptop beside him on the bed. And suddenly, he remembered exactly what he needed to be worried about as he read the headline again. It all refreshed in his head, stirring the very anxiety in his gut that had sat dormant for a while. His expression was insipid as always, but the intensity of his stare was enough for Suga to realize, and push the laptop screen closed.

"We can talk about that later." Suga pulls a reassuring smile. He ushers Tsukki to lay back down into his sheets. "You need to rest up first. I'll go get the rag." The silver-headed man exits the room, turning the light off on the way out.

Though, rest was far harder than it seemed. Tsukki was tired, exhausted, absolutely _spent_. But the heat searing under his skin made it hard for him to decide if he was hot or cold under his sheets. And his coughs would jerk him awake, his sniffling nose keeping him from falling asleep. His body was too uncomfortable to relax into a doze.

So instead, he checks his phone. The screen wakes up, burning Tsukki's eyes, but he gets used to it. His fingers tap quickly to Kuroo's Instagram page, deliberately avoiding the numerous articles that displayed his name. This was about the third or perhaps even the fourth time Tsukishima's done this, lurking through Kuroo's socials to know more about him. He finds it pathetic that he's stooped to this kind of low. But, Kuroo's the one who dragged Tsukishima into this mess, so the latter's convinced himself to believe that he's simply researching what he's in for.

With no surprise, Kuroo had recently starred in a crime thriller film, _Running With Bullets_ , that did _very_ well. Tsukishima remembered hearing about it for months, never caring enough to check it out himself. But his amount of relentless research (more like a simple google search of the movie) led Tsukki to learn that Kuroo played the role of a detective who gets dragged into a federal case when his lover was murdered by a mob leader. Yeah, dark. But also not super original.

But aside from analyzing the _plot_ , Tsukki was more focused on the fact that the lover in the movie was a _female_.

In fact, in all the films that Kuroo starred in that had a subplot of romance, he was always paired with females. The man's track record just screamed _'I'm as straight as you can get if you don't count the fact that I just kissed a man last night'._ So, it's safe to say that the media probably thinks he's straight. And some of the Instagram posts he has on his insanely rich feed, are with women draped suggestively over him (Tsukki doesn't quite blame them for it. I mean, those _biceps_ ), different women in each different post.

 _Then what's with this damn guy kissing me?_ Tsukishima frowns to himself. He was even starting to doubt that Kuroo's gay. He could imagine the raven-haired man to be someone who would do anything to prove a point. And that includes kissing a guy.

No one other than Tsukishima's most close working team and a few friends even knew that he's a raging homosexual (not even his family knew which is something Tsukki's trying not to think too hard about). He never really thought about coming out to the media, didn't feel he had to, and just decided to remain indifferent to any sort of romance that the media could capture. Never got too close to any male or female in the public's eye. Romance has always turned sour after being defaced by media pressure, so Tsukishima decided he wanted none of it.

Even his two-year relationship with Akaashi is still a secret from the outside world.

After a bit more digging, Tsukishima discovers that acting wasn't the only thing that gave Kuroo deep pockets. He's a model from time to time, even appearing in Japan Vogue _numerously_. It's profoundly cursed that Tsukishima was able to find shots of Kuroo posing in such casual but sexy ways, his slim but toned arms jumping out at him from the screen. There were several headshots and paparazzi-themed photos of him with his distant but gravitating stare. The candid photos of him were Tsukki's personal favorite (he hated that he had a favorite) where his eternal bedhead hair is always perfectly mussed into an attractive angle. His jawline, his _jawline_ , was perfectly sharp with his classic Cheshire grin. They went hand in hand.

Damn it, why did he have to be so attractive? It would have been so much easier to be displeased if he was an unattractive creep.

Suga comes back into the room with a large bowl of iced water and sets it down on the nightstand. Before dunking the rag into the bowl, he slips the phone out of the model's warm hands.

"No phone, _rest_." Suga insists with no protest coming from the blonde. Tsukishima figured he needed something to pull him away from stalking Kuroo even further. "We need you better ASAP. I already called in to reschedule the shoots you had this week." He dips and gathers water into the white rag. "You usually can't reschedule things this far into the deal, so consider yourself lucky." He rings out the water and places the rag on Tsukishima's forehead. He immediately felt soothing relief upon contact with something so gracefully cold.

"The water is here for you to soak the rag in if it turns warm," Suga informs before telling Tsukki to rest _again_. Tsukishima merely mumbles compliance at the agent's (reasonable) nagging in hopes to get him out of the room faster. Suga says something about being in the living room if he's needed, then shuts the door behind him to leave Tsukishima to rest.

The model's golden eyes stare up at the ceiling hazily, his breathing shallow and hot under his blanket. It was as if he could see it happening again: the kiss. As if it was being projected on the ceiling above him. His gut clenched, and his brows furrowed. The kiss wasn't bad, it was just offputting. Sudden, unpredictable, and careless.

Just look where it landed them.

Tsukishima (and potentially Kuroo) was thrown out of the closet, leaving him unprepared like he was just stripped naked on the highway. All eyes were on him and Kuroo, more than they already were before. And though Tsukishima tried comforting himself with the fact that Kuroo is insanely attractive, it didn't mean he wanted to be blindsided by such attention from him and the public on either side.

And so, all he could muster within himself was anger towards the actor. It was easier that way. Somehow, twistedly so. It's safe to say that it worked because Tsukki was soon dozing off with his last thoughts being of Kuroo and how much of a dick he is. 

\--

"Tsukki..." Suga's voice entered softly into Tsukishima's now conscious ears. The golden eyes are fluttered awake, blinking a couple of times confusedly. It took a few moments for reality to fall in place and Tsukki had to register that he wasn't shivering, but that he was being delicately shaken awake by someone. "Tsukki, you need to be awake for a moment." The agent's gentle hand persistently tugged at the blonde's shoulder, pulling a groggy groan from the latter.

Tsukishima turned to lay on his back with the ache in his limbs yearning for a stretch. Suga's face was blurry with his bare vision, but he could see that the lights were on and Suga was peeling the blanket back just enough for Tsukishima to sit up. And sitting up felt significantly easier than before, his head no longer spinning. His body felt less on fire and more like a hot stove. Still not pleasant, but better than before.

Two figures stood at the doorway of his bedroom, and Tsukishima looked over with narrowed eyes to try and make out the figures. One was very tall, and the other very short. Quite humorous how Suga let a damn twelve-year-old into the house.

"They're here to talk about the article," Suga informs, urging Tsukki's glasses into his grasp.

Well damn, now Tsukki wishes it _was_ a twelve-year-old in his bedroom instead of a representative of _whatever the fuck_ happened the night before. The last thing he wanted was to talk about the debacle he's stuck in right now.

Tsukishima fit the frames of his glasses into his face, clarity reviving in his sight. Then he looked up and saw that face. The tan skin, sharp jaw, raven bedhead hair. It was undoubtedly Kuroo Tetsurou who was standing at his _bedroom door_.

"What the _fuck_." Tsukishima mindlessly spats. The words were impulsive and it practically slipped out his mouth like a slip-n-slide.

"Tsukki!" Suga sharply whispers with a scold in his voice.

But Kuroo laughed, his lips parting to show that same amused grin. And the shorter guy beside him laughed as well (nope, not a twelve-year-old). Though, Tsukishima didn't recognize him from anywhere. 

"It's okay, Sugawara. Do loosen up, we're pretty casual." The short man with dirty blonde hair assures the taller agent. He then diverts his eyes to Tsukishima like a curveball. Spooky. "I'm Yaku Morisuke, Kuroo Tetsurou's agent. May I come in?" Tsukishima responds with compliance.

Everyone gathered around the bed where Tsukishima sat, Tsukki particularly trying his hardest to not look Kuroo's way. It was out of both resentment and embarrassment, and Kuroo didn't seem to look back either. It was mutual that way.

Yaku clears his throat, adjusting the cuffs of his blazer that was worn with a casual blue t-shirt and black jeans. "We're sorry for the intrusion, Tsukishima, really. Especially because you're feeling under the weather." Tsukishima merely shrugged, not finding words to say at a time like this. "But, our team, _Kuroo's_ team-" he shoots the taller man a glare, and Kuroo dodges it by looking the other way "-wanted to speak to you as fast as possible about the _situation_ that the media has got hold of. Especially because it's only rapidly growing by the hour."

Why did he have to sound so formal? It only made the fact soak in deeper.

"It's fine, I understand," Tsukishima assures dully. He wanted a piece of what Kuroo was thinking anyway, fast and without a prolonged wait.

"First off," Yaku slaps a hand on Kuroo's gut like it was both a signal and an act of nonverbal chastisement. "This dumbass needs to apologize." He crosses his arms. "Like he means it."

Tsukishima was forced to look at Kuroo, who was standing at the other side of his bed. He had on casual dark wash jeans, a black turtleneck that hugged his slim but muscular form, and a crimson flannel that made him look like a frat boy, not a celebrity. He messed with his hair nervously before meeting Tsukki's gaze with an apprehensive rise of his head. It gave him a good read on the star's expression: nearly blank, but slightly tense brows that expressed reticent remorse.

Kuroo bends into a bow, hands flat at his sides till his hair flops in front of him. "I'm sorry for what I did last night, Tsukishima. And for dragging you into this mess." His back seemed to stiffen. "I hope you can forgive me."

This all seemed way too serious, and it only encouraged Tsukishima to put on a crooked smile. Not so high and mighty now, is he? "Oh? Maybe I'll think about it." He snarks, hoping it passed off as an offhand way of saying everything was fine.

Kuroo rose from his bow, an amused grin smoldering into Tsukki's view dangerously. Shit, maybe he accidentally turned him on instead.

"I'll spare you the long details and just cut to the chase since I assume you already know what's up," Yaku says. "but we have a deal for you, Tsukishima."

 _A deal_. Tsukishima's eyes darted to the short agent with piqued interest. He glances at Suga momentarily, but he seemed to already know that a deal was being handed to them. Though, he as well seemed to be in the dark about what exactly it was.

"To paint you a better image of this scenario we are in," Yaku starts with a hand rising to his chin. "That image of you guys kissing. At first sight, _'it's adorable! How romantic and sudden!'_ is how most people reacted. And those same people want some _answers_. So it's bound to get reporters to pounce on you about how it happened. And, Kuroo having been transparent about it with us, we realized that this actually puts him in the potential situation of a _scandal._ "

The words vibrated in Tsukki's ears, wondering if he heard it correctly. His head slightly tilted, brows quirking down with bemusement.

Yaku, observing Tsukishima's inability to grasp it, continues. "Because in your perspective, he flew in and kissed you. Without your consent." Realization lightbulbs in Tsukishima's head. "He followed you into a secluded room, while you were alone, and kissed you. Without asking. And then you pushed him off and left without another word. And people will assume that that's because you aren't into men like how Kuroo assumed you did." Yaku gestures with his hands to further emphasize his point. "This is all hypothetical, the what-ifs. But can you see it now?" 

_If I told the story as I had experienced it, it would make Kuroo out to be-_

"-a sexual harasser of straight men." Tsukishima picks up the last three words of Yaku's words that completed his thought. "' _Kuroo Tetsurou sexually harasses straight supermodel at MC Bokutos party ',_ " Yaku says theatrically, his hands extending out in front of him to mimick a banner ahead. "Doesn't sound very fortunate for Kuroo, or our team."

And Tsukishima knows all too well how the media likes to stretch things for their own benefit.

"So, the deal?" Suga's hand gestures, urging Yaku on.

"Well," Yaku looks at Tsukishima reticently. "it will only work if Tsukishima says yes to this question." Tsukki only gave a small crunch of expression as his inquiry.

"Kuroo asked if you're into guys," Yaku says bluntly. He puts a hand on his hip and looks directly into Tsukishima with great precision. "So are you?" Yaku looked to be asking for a direct answer. He doesn't seem to be the type of guy that likes beating around the bush. And Tsukki knew he wouldn't be able to shrug his way out of this one.

A tension in Tsukki's chest tightened, with his lips slightly ajar with hesitation. For a quick moment, he considered lying, considered saying something that strictly only straight men would say (and what the hell would that be without saying something so vulgar??). But he knew there was no point in lying when he was knee-deep in a muddy situation.

"Yeah, I am." His voice almost cracked. "I am into guys."

Something that looked like relief washed over Yaku at the revelation of his deal being in the possible. "Well, that's good. That way, this'll be much easier." Tsukishima was only growing more and more anxious.

"In order to keep this under wraps, our team thought it'd be a good plan to have you guys pose as a couple," Yaku explains as both the blonde and the silver-headed agent exchange looks as in asking _did you hear what he said?_ "It'll be a tease. The media's biggest chase! You guys will evade answering their pressing questions such as _'are you guys together?'_ and _'since when?'. "_

Tsukisima seriously couldn't believe what he was hearing. This was something that only happened to idols.

"The point of it is to never confirm that you guys are dating, which you guys aren't, but they don't have to know that." Yaku gives a thrilling smirk.

"And how is this going to work?" Suga asks. "The part about them posing as a couple without trying to make the media think they're a couple..?"

"Easy! Go on a few fake dates, give obscure answers to eager questions, reel in the paparazzi with the bait, and BAM!" Yaku's last word is explosively emphasized. "Hook, line, and _sink_. Both parties get the benefit of mad publicity."

Yaku's excitement on the matter was offputting, and it made the blonde think he was listening to an entrepreneur's pitch, not a talent agent. Tsukishima looked over at Kuroo to see how he was reacting to the plan, but he was unreadable with such an intense face like his. His hazel eyes met with Tsukishima's golden ones in a quick flicker. Kuroo attempted to give Tsukishima a weak smile, but the model dragged his eyes away before he could.

"Well, are you down for it?" Yaku asks.

Tsukishima was less surprised by the deal, and more surprised that he was given a choice. "No." He says without blinking. Not even a pause, or a breath. Rejection is purely easy for Tsukishima to deliver.

Everyone went silent, Suga choking out a chuckle at the blonde's bluntness. He had shot the agent down, point-blank. No one can expect any less from Tsukki.

"Tsukki, are you sure?" Suga's voice was timid amidst the evaporated vigor of the conversation.

"I'm not so interested in this lame publicity stunt." Tsukishima sighs until he chokes out a deep cough. "I find it... unethical."

Bullshit. Tsukki could care less about ethics. He just wasn't ready to be openly gay in front of _hundreds and thousands._ And with Kuroo Tetsurou? The man is hot but how the hell is he supposed to act all lovey-dovey with the guy?

He tried his best to mask himself with a look of indifference, but his heart was thumping heatedly at his ribs. He wasn't sure what did it, but maybe it was because he saw the star's shoulders fall from the corner of his eye. But, overall, his mind was set, and Tsukki feels like he's said enough and doesn't find the need to explain himself further.

The blonde agent sighs, hand scratching at his head in a search for words. He was half expecting a decline, but not a straight-up blunt rejection. "Yeah, I get that." He chuckles in mirthless defeat. "I won't prod anymore." Yaku reassures Tsukki. The agent's generous consideration was enough to almost make Tsukishima feel guilty. His gut even lurched, and he thought maybe he was going to puke again.

"I'm sorry." Tsukishima squeezes out, alleviating the tightness in his chest.

"It's okay, Tsukishima. We'll figure something else out." Yaku shakes an insistent hand out towards Tsukishima's way as reassurance. "Though, thank you for hearing us out."

"I can help you guys figure something else out." Bless Suga's kind soul, because he isn't obliged to offer such a service.

"That would be great, thank you." Yaku agrees gratefully. He nods Kuroo towards the door. "We should go, the guy needs his rest."

The actor was antsy, but he didn't budge. "You guys can go on out, just give me _five minutes_ ," Kuroo says it like casual chatter, but everyone else noticed the oddness.

"Hey, what-" Tsukishima splutters in protest.

"Tsukki, _five minutes._ " Kuroo turns quickly to the blonde, practically pleading with his eyes. "Please?" His voice was soft and sensitive, and he looked like a round-eyed kitten. A complete 180 from his crass personality the last time Tsukishima encountered him. It was a strange sight in comparison to his overbearing confidence that was practically in everyone's face.

And what was even stranger than that, was that Tsukki didn't protest. To neither the use of his nickname or Kuroo's persuasion.

Hesitant eyes dart between the two, but seeing Tsukishima's lack of protest, he nods. "Alright, five minutes, Kuroo." And the two agents leave the two stars behind with a closed door.

Apprehension crept up Tsukishima's back, sniffling with congestion when he looked at Kuroo press out a long sigh. Kuroo was not nearly as intimidating as he was in his pictures, instead, he looked like a child trying to solve a math problem in his head. The raven-haired man walks over and sits at the side of the bed beside Tsukishima, who's pulse was picking pace.

After a long silence, Kuroo apologizes again. "Tsukki, I'm sorry."

"You already made that clear, Kuroo-san." He adjusted his blankets firmly to cover himself more, anxious. He could smell the star from where he was, and he still blissfully smelled like tobacco and campfire. "And it's Tsukishima, please."

"I had plenty to drink last night and though I wasn't drunk, it was enough to make me act irrationally without much thought." Kuroo rubs his hands up the bridge of his nose, carefully choosing his words while Tsukishima listened. "I'm not blaming it not the alcohol, heh... it's still my fault. With the alcohol though, it made me act on my attraction towards you last night."

Tsukki hoped the heat in his cheeks was from the rising fever. He was panicking inside like a high school girl, but he played it off well with a dull face. Kuroo's head turned back to meet those golden eyes, and he chuckled. "Couldn't really help myself with the sight of you last night, Tsukishima."

Wow, Kuroo is way gayer than Tsukki initially assumed.

"Shut it with the flattery, you sap." Tsukishima rolls his eyes, but a small entertained grin from the blonde comforted Kuroo in a strange way.

"I just wanted to make it clear to you that I understand I did something wrong, probably threw you into an uncomfortable place with your sexuality, and now I am the asshole." Kuroo ran a hand through his hair, and Tsukishima wondered if he did that on purpose. Because that action alone was melting him inside with attraction. "If I could take it back, I would. But please know I'm not like that all the time."

The four-eyed blonde tilted his head to inspect Kuroo from another angle, and Kuroo followed his gaze with engaged eye contact. It was hard for Tsukki to not jump out of his skin when they were practically sharing a few seconds of an established staring contest.

"What are you saying?" He felt like Kuroo was asking for something. "Are you asking me to agree to the deal?"

Kuroo's face twists into shock, showing that that was clearly not his intention. "Wh- Hey! Is that how it came off?" The actor buried his face in one hand with a groan aimed towards himself. "God, I'm sorry, Tsukki. I didn't mean for you to think that I was grooming you or anything-"

"Just shut up, I get it, I get it." Tsukishima laughs, never seeing the actor so flustered before. The damn tables have turned.

"I was just trying to apologize properly, like a real-"

"What part about shut up do you not get?" Tsukki leaned back against the headboard of his bed, crossing his arms with a powerful smirk. This time, the eyes of scrutiny were laid in the golden orbs of the blonde and the bemusement was in the hazel. "Are you listening?" His voice was unhesitantly smooth to Kuroo's ears, drawing his full attention easily like a clean magnet.

"I'll do it."

"Huh?"

"I'll do the deal, damn it. Do I have to say it again?" Tsukishima pulls his indifferent wits out, secretly enjoying the appalled gleam in Kuroo's eyes.

"Holy shit, wait-" Kuroo quickly reels it all back in, as if resisting. "But, Tsukki. Don't feel forced to do this for me."

"Who says I'm doing it for you?" Tsukishima chuckles. "Don't let your ego catch up to you, Kuroo-san."

Instead of feeling offended or defeated, Kuroo only smirked with the intense look on his face returning. "Oh, is this gonna turn into a race?"

Tsukishima snorts, looking away to avoid the eye candy that was literally sitting _on his fucking bed_. He didn't want his brain short-circuiting at a time like this.

A hand grabs and loosens Tsukishima's crossed arms to take hold of his hand. Tsukishima's heart was seriously having a scream in his chest, causing his pulse to spike. Tsukki forced a dull look and submissive hand that only followed what Kuroo was doing. His hand grasped Tsukki's, firmly but gently. Calloused palms sent the first chill into the blonde since he had the fever. And unexpectedly, Kuroo raises the pale hand to his lips, giving it an innocent and chaste kiss.

The blonde tried to look as disinterested as possible with it, but in reality, he smiled without thought. Before Kuroo could notice, he jokes. "What are you, gay?"

Kuroo smirks against the model's hand, not letting go. "I thought it was pretty obvious."

Tsukishima was definitely blushing, and he felt his brain fry with a fluster he did not want to reveal. "Also, I'm sick." He pulls his hand from the actor's grip and sinks into his bed to pull the covers over him. "Now, can I get some rest?"

"Want me to join you?" Kuroo jests.

"Get out." Tsukishima deadpans, his voice muffled. "The deal doesn't apply unless we're in public, dumbass."

Hearing Kuroo snicker to himself, he started making his way out of the room to leave the blonde to rest. "Turn off the lights," Tsukishima says before Kuroo could leave the room.

"As you wish, Your Highness." And the lights went out.

\--

"What the hell did you do??" The blonde-headed agent's voice was so enthused that he slams the car door closed, shaking the entire car. Despite his small size, he harbors a shockingly large amount of strength and endurance.

For a second, Kuroo thought Yaku was pissed. "Did what??"

"You got Tsukishima to agree, dumbass, what else could I be asking about?" The driver starts the car with the pair in the backseat bickering.

"What else did you think I did?" Kuroo's smirk made Yaku blink, unimpressed. "I flattered him with my charms and went on my way."

Yaku slaps a hand on the taller man's head, causing Kuroo to wince. "Stop fucking around, what did you actually do?" He narrowed his eyes. "You didn't pressure him, did you?" The last thing the team needed was another fuck up.

"God, alright. And no, I didn't pressure him, Yakkun." Kuroo groans, leaning his head back against his seat with exhausted eyes. "I gave him a better apology because I felt really bad. Like... I felt like shit when I saw that article so I wanted to express that to him. But before I could say all I had planned, he agreed to it."

A small smile crests on Yaku's lips. He was content with Kuroo's integrity that always seems to pull through in the end. The agent was shocked himself when he woke up to that article, Kuroo never having expressed his sexuality in public despite being _super_ into men despite his looks and media reputation. And he was even more shocked as to how it happened, and, even Kuroo seemed pretty panicked about it too.

 _"Shit, I don't even know if he's actually gay!"_ Kuroo had shouted into the phone earlier that morning with Yaku on the other line. The agent merely listened to the star having a ramble of guilt spill through the phone as he devised a plan on how to get Kuroo out of the situation that he so carelessly got himself stuck in.

"His agent is _leagues_ nicer than you, Yakkun." Kuroo's smug grin was looking for a tease.

"The agent is akin to an angel. I was afraid to say the wrong thing or I might've been expelled to purgatory." Yaku says, crediting to Kuroo's claim partially. "Well, I'm glad you pulled through."

Kuroo grunts in response, fishing rare modesty out his system. The original objective of his apology wasn't to get Tsukishima to agree with the deal; not even remotely so. Kuroo did it because he was a mess of guilt the morning after the party, finding the image of their kiss to be #1 trending on all gossip and news sites.

To be a decent human being, Kuroo found it appropriate to give a proper apology, especially because he didn't know that Tsukishima was actually gay. The model had left Kuroo hanging right after it happened as if that was an answer in itself. But now that that's all boiled over, he could smirk to himself out the window. 

_So he_ is _gay._

Tsukishima already had Kuroo's attention before the party. Not necessarily a crush, but a celebrity he could look at and admire. How could he not? A tall, slender blonde with the dullest stare that made him appear rich with sex appeal. And everything about Tsukishima practically screamed _homo_. 

Especially his glasses. Those damn Ray-Bans that glossed over his golden eyes, making them entrancing to stare into. And having been able to see him in the flesh at the party, for the entire night, Kuroo was making many efforts to meet that glossed golden stare, and every time he did, the more his curiosity burned about his sexuality.

He was sure that Tsukishima was intrigued by Kuroo too. He's hard to read at face value, but Kuroo could feel the reciprocation in his words and energy. His _hunch_ as he had told the blonde. Which is why he could not find himself to be discouraged by Tsukishima's snarky wits.

Not to mention, the model sure moved like one. Smoothly in such a lax manner, he doesn't even seem to realize it. Kuroo was watching him move almost all night, even in the slightest ways. He had thought maybe his enhanced attention on Tsukishima was because of the alcohol pushing his attention to detail in the most unnecessary ways, but no.

Talking to Tsukki alone in his room, he could see the model's features in a brighter light. His blonde curly hair mussed with sleep, his pale skin somewhat tinged with heat from the fever, his arms so limber in that baggy gray t-shirt. His eyes were more golden, and he was still bravely smug. That little bastard.

"Stop grinning to yourself like that, you creep." Yaku calls out the actor, gaining the hazel-eyes on him.

"Then stop looking at me," Kuroo suggests, feeling a good mood beaming in his chest. "If you can help it."

"I'm not gay, Kuroo." Yaku deadpans.

"Yeah, I know." Kuroo laughs. When Kuroo had first met his agent, he was sure that the short man was something other than _heterosexual_. "You were the first to break my gaydar."

Yaku snorts to himself, his eyes glued down to his phone screen. "Well, it worked on Tsukishima, didn't it?"

It sure as hell did.

Curiosity burns at Kuroo and he looks over at Yaku, wondering what he was so invested in. "What ya looking at?"

"Sugawara sent me a list of Tsukishima's available days," Yaku replies. "We're planning on having you guys get scheduled for the same shoot." He looks up at Kuroo with an eager look gleaming in his eyes. "For your guys' debut as the mysteriously unconfirmed couple."

It's been a while since Kuroo's modeled for a shoot. He's been busier with acting more than usual, having no time to model for anything outside the film industry. But a shoot with Tsukishima? That'll be a great comeback into modeling. This made him make a closed-lip smile.

"Kuroo."

"Hm?"

"How have you been feeling about your sexuality being revealed to the public?" Yaku asks, setting his phone down and crossing his arms. His gaze was ahead, but his ears were intent.

Kuroo merely shrugged. "I mean, I've been meaning to come out to the media _sometime_." Really, Kuroo isn't so bothered. He's comfortable with his sexuality. He was mostly worried about Tsukishima and how he's handling it. Especially because he doesn't know Tsukishima's stance with his openness as a gay. "I don't really care. Things'll be fine and the same, I assume."

Though, he expects many to be surprised because of his ability to act as a lover in a male-to-female relationship. But in reality, he's not remotely attracted to women in that way. Kuroo's a natural romantic, so he's always been able to pull it off in movies. All those women he's had shoots or taken pictures with where they're all over him were all completely one-sided. Kuroo's an actor, and he's a damn good one.

"I'm glad to hear that." Yaku nods. "Makes things easier."

It's always about making things easier.

"Yeah," Kuroo agrees. "I guess so."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY BACK HURTS LMAO.
> 
> ALSO AT SOME POINTS WHEN I'M WRITING UP KUROO'S THOUGHTS ABOUT TSUKISHIMA, IT ENDS UP BEING THE EASIEST THING FOR ME TO WRITE ALL CHAPTER. THIS SAYS A LOT ABOUT MY LOVE FOR TSUKISHIMA EFBWBDK.
> 
> OK LOVELIES SEE YOU NEXT CHAPTER.  
> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm not going primal," Kuroo smirks. "Not today."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, it's hereeeee!  
> I have spring break starting next week but one of my teachers assigned a project to do over the break, so QUARANTINE IS GOING TO BE FUN HM??!?!?  
> Lol also have fun reading this :D

The kettle hissed demandingly into the air with steam shooting out the nose. This signals Tsukki to wait for the kettle to calm down to pour himself a cup of herbal tea that would treat his sore throat. It's been four days since he's woken up with the fever (and since the deal was made) and Tsukishima has almost made a full recovery. No more spinning heads, or aching muscles. His sniffles were still there, but not as thick and snotty. And his coughs have been reduced to a mere sore.

And, Akiteru's come over that day to check up on Kei.

"This place is bigger than I remember." Akiteru makes small talk. And Kei hates small talk.

"Sometimes it's too big," Kei mutters as he sits at the dining table across from his older brother.

"Then get a roommate," Akiteru suggests. As if it was the most obvious thing ever. Which it _is_ , but not in Kei's case.

Frowning, the model stares down at the leather brown-colored tea. "Are you dumb or something? I can't just _get a roommate_." It's not practical to put an ad up on craigslist to find a lonesome person who's willing to room with a hotshot celebrity. Whether they'd enjoy it or not, it's a dumb idea from the start.

Aki silently makes an _oh_ sound. The older blonde frequently and clumsily forgets the level of fame his baby brother is at. And that he isn't just his _baby brother_. Akiteru has always had a hard time adjusting to Kei's title as a celebrity.

"Well, why not move in with your agent?" Akiteru tosses a helpful shrug of his shoulders, only to return an aloof stare from Kei. He was just saying random stuff at this point to fill the awkwardness and it was starting to irk Kei.

"I don't need a roommate," Kei says mousily. "And Suga-san already lives with someone."

The air between the brothers is thick and silent like foam. It's expected so since Kei hasn't seen his brother in months, maybe even a year. They're both busy people with Kei handling his busy life as a model and Akiteru leading a quiet life running a private law firm down in Osaka. Time and distance always kept them apart, so Akiteru being there is quite a rarity. And not to mention, the last year or two has been rough for the Tsukishima family.

"So, Kei," Akiteru's voice peters out the moment it starts. He's watching for Kei's eyes, but he doesn't meet them. "you're gay, right?"

"Is that what you came here for?" The younger blonde brings the cup to his face, looking at Akiteru from over the top of his glasses. "To ask about that photo?"

"Ah, no. Well," The older blonde stumbles with his words, a nervous laugh coming out in the end. "I came here because I want to let you know that I support you." Tsukki stops the sip he was about to take to give his brother a silent, inspecting gaze. "Though, I was both surprised and not surprised. You've always had a certain air about you. But you know I'm always open to many things."

_He wishes I told him._

It's written all over Akiteru's face. The crease between his brows, small but genuine smile that also shone a glimpse of sadness. But he should already be aware of Kei's reserved nature.

"Thanks." Kei's face is still blank but it doesn't look so sour anymore. It's a lighthearted type of emptiness and not a bitter one. "Means a lot." And he meant it.

"Have you talked to mom and dad recently?" Aki asks with a hitch of dubiousness.

The space between Kei's brows pressed with annoyance. "I haven't since the last time."

Akiteru made a strangled noise in his throat as if he was trying to chuckle. "You should try and give them a call." He looked at the dining surface with a downcast look. He knows he's treading on thin ice. "They would appreciate it and would love to hear your voice again."

"They'll only appreciate it because they want my money." Kei bites out with acidity. "Like it's always been." Even the hot sip of tea was no match to the scorn in Kei's mouth when he said those words.

The last time Kei met his parents was when he confronted them about stealing money out of his bank account behind his back. It also doesn't help that their extremely conservative upbringing already had their relationship as fragile as eggshells.

"It's been two years, Kei-"

"After 500 million yen," Kei cuts Akiteru off. "They took 500 million yen from me in the course of eight months. Behind my back."

Akiteru's always been the favorite child. Their parents never made that a secret. Akiteru's sociable, kind, and he's the type to give a stranger his umbrella when it's pouring rain. Hell, even if it's _hailing_. But he doesn't know what it's like to feel robbed by his own parents. Because he's always been the poster child of a goody-two-shoes who never talked back to their parents or _anyone_ really. It's easy for him to get along with _anyone_. So he thinks reconciling with someone is as easy as ripping a band-aid off. That it'll only hurt for a little bit but it'll be over with. But Kei just wants it to sink into his dear brother's head that _that's not how things work in real life._

Now Kei felt all felt worked up inside. So much so that his heart thumped in the cavern of his chest with aggressive heat creeping up his tongue. But he was forcing himself to slowly grind the words out instead of firing them at his brother point-blank. That's one thing Kei's always been gifted at; staying level-headed.

"It's always been that. The money," Kei says. "Asking me how much I'm making, how much the companies are offering, how much my shoes were, how much my condo is." He gripped the handle of his cup like death and Aki's eyes slipped down at the action. But Kei's face didn't change. "I didn't mind giving them money. But I guess it wasn't enough. They just wanted more."

"I'm sorry, Kei," Akiteru says softly and with remorse for the inquiry. Though, he's not the one who should be saying sorry. "That's a hundred percent an a-hole move on mom and dad's part." Kei found it amusing that his brother still refuses to curse. "And you've made that clear to them already. So, it wouldn't hurt to give them a call sometime. They might've changed."

"Well, whether or not that change happened, I'm sure it's all ruined now." Though, Kei could care less. "You know how mom and dad are. They'd be disgusted with me."

There was no pipe of protest or reassurance at that. Both Akiteru and Kei know their parents' opinions on gays.

"It still wouldn't hurt to give them a benefit of doubt." Akiteru was hopeful. So hopelessly hopeful.

_Akiteru, you're too damn naive._

"I don't wanna talk about this anymore." Kei dismisses the topic, unable to really feel his brother's empathy no matter how hard Akiteru was trying to feel it himself. But they're completely different people, and that's that.

Hands folded in front of him, Akiteru gets the message. And he shuts up about it.

"Well, then can I ask about him?" Aki asks with a peaking smile.

"Who?" Kei almost forgot.

"Your boyfriend."

"He's not..." Kei isn't really supposed to admit they're 'dating', but he's also not supposed to _deny_ it either. "not _technically_ , my _boy_ friend but he's _some_ thing." It came out as confused blubber, and Akiteru couldn't quite grasp it himself. He just had a crooked head tilt and bemused grin.

"Well, can I ask about him then?"

"I don't see why not." Damn it, why did he agree?

"Hah! Well, you know, when I first saw you guys blow up, the first thing I thought to myself was, _I can't believe_ the _Kuroo Tetsurou is into my baby brother_. It's kinda hard to absorb, knowing that he's been pretty big since we were in junior high." Akiteru gleamed, eagerly looking into Kei's face. It was obvious that he's missed seeing Kei.

The older Tsukishima brother settles in his seat, laughing with a hand on his head. He knows he shouldn't be surprised when he's literally sitting across someone who is on the same level of notability as someone like Naomi Campbell and Cindy Crawford. "How'd you guys meet?"

Panic arouses in Kei's mind, thoughts darting for an answer. He's never really established a story with Kuroo on the basic backstory details, and he silently cursed himself for being so ill-prepared for an interrogation. He should've known. It's Akiteru for god's sake, he's a damn lawyer.

"Agency connections. Kuroo's a model from time to time, so we met during a contract meeting of sorts." Kei says utter _lies_. It's scary how good he can be at it. He also wanted to disinterest Aki as much as possible, but there was no such thing for a flamboyant guy like him.

"What's he like?" Aki asks.

"An ass." Kei didn't even have to think about that one. It's amusing how that's his initial thought of Kuroo, but he ends up smirking to himself about it. "But he's pretty cool... I guess." The model is always inexpressive with affection, so Akiteru didn't find anything unordinary about it.

Kei is saved by the chiming noise of his front door unlocking. Both he and Aki turn their heads towards the hallway where the motion-sensor lights in the shoe area light up. Stumbling feet were heard, and Aki turns to look at Kei, asking, "Who is it?"

He wasn't expecting him, but Kei already knew who it was.

"Tsukki! Are you up?" The voice calls out into the hollow hallway. "I'm here with Daichi!"

"I'm here." Kei answers, loud enough for his dry voice to crack.

Lights from the hallway flick on, the silver-haired agent and his tan-skinned boyfriend emerging into the room with greetings flying out their mouths. They carried thick brown bags down at their sides, and Suga's eyes shimmered when he saw Kei up and healthy. Then he notices Akiteru, and Suga immediately gives a ditzy chuckle.

"Ah, did I interrupt?" Suga sets the bags down on the table followed by Daichi. "I didn't know you'd have company over."

"Maybe you would have if you called or texted me first." Kei also gives Akiteru an accusing look, since he pulled the same stunt that morning. Kei always hates surprises.

A knuckle lightly knocks at the model's temple, receiving an involuntary strangled squirming noise from the back of his throat. Suga was the one to commit the knuckling of Kei's head, a lively pout on his lips.

"Is that so? I've practically been nurturing you back to health, so I think it's safe to say I live here too." Suga says, looking back at Daichi. "Right, Daichi? I haven't been home a lot this past week."

"Are we going to have a problem with who gets to keep Suga, Tsukishima?" Daichi banters lightheartedly. He comes up behind Suga to wrap his waist in a tight hug as if claiming the man as his.

"No, sir, no such thing." Kei reciprocates the jest with small laughter, his hand waving in protest. "He's all yours, Daichi-san."

Suga finally stretches a hand out to Akiteru to give a familiar handshake since they've already met before. And Daichi freshly introduced himself as well, even though he didn't really need to since Akiteru already knew who the star volleyball player was. He was in fact, honored to be able to give Daichi a firm handshake, and Kei could see how excitable his older brother was getting.

"I didn't know you were in town, Akiteru," Suga says.

"I just needed to see Kei since it's been a while," Akiteru replies politely.

The curiosity regarding the bags were becoming too much in Kei's mind, a finger of his picking at the top corner of the opening. "What is this?"

"Ah, the agency had me pick up these packets of antioxidant juice pouches." Suga reaches in and grabs out a long rectangular box that was grey with two purple stripes on it. He lifts the lid, showing rows and rows of grey-colored juice pouches (that resembled the packaging of squeezable applesauce that Kei had a lot as a little kid). "There are four of these boxes and also some remedial drinks they sent. They're all to make sure you haven't lost your shape from the fever, and they're filled with vitamins to give you a boost of energy."

"Why so much?" Kei's eyes scanned across the table where things have been unpacked from the brown bags.

"Because you're a tall one, Tsukki. You'll probably get through it really quickly." Suga explains.

"And we also got lunch," Daichi looks over at Aki, apologizing for not having an extra bento. But Aki reassured him that he was fine and that he already had a full breakfast.

_Where am I going to put all this?_ Four boxes of antioxidants, and three boxes of remedial tea. All from a rich high-end brand that his agency would obviously be able to afford. But at least Kei knows the stuff is reliable.

"Tsukki, how are you feeling?" Suga asks. He starts to hum happily as he takes the boxes to the back pantry, much to Kei's protest (since he was the guest, then again, does he even have the right to say he's a guest anymore?).

"I'm feeling fine," Kei's replies.

"Fine as in, you're ready to go back to work tomorrow?" Suga peeks out from behind the pantry door.

"Uhm... sure." His voice still isn't well, but he can walk without feeling the ground spin beneath him.

"Great! Cause you have a shoot tomorrow in the early afternoon." Suga cheers jovially. "For Karasuno magazine. It's being shot at our agency so it's not super serious."

"A shoot?" Kei felt like he was far from ready for a shoot. "I look like I got run over."

"That's what a cosmetics team is for, Tsukishima," Daichi nudges Kei's elbow to break his bewildered stare. "They're there to enhance everything you already have."

"I can't wait for my eye bags to be enhanced," Kei grits out sarcastically. "Just like the world wants."

"Kei, you will look perfect! Like always!" Suga comes back to the dining table to grab a bento from the table. "You're having the shoot with Kuroo, so they'll make sure to have you looking dapper." The agent winks teasingly at the four-eyed blonde while he blinked back, baffled.

"Why didn't I know this until today?" Kei inquires rather bitterly.

"Because I didn't know until today either." Suga urges a bento over to the model, handing him a pair of chopsticks while he was at it. Daichi joined with his bento, seating himself next to Akiteru, who was simply watching the chatter going on. "Yaku said tomorrow opened up for Kuroo."

The rice in Kei's bento was being picked on by his chopsticks, Kei not having much of an appetite. But the model knows that Suga won't let him leave the table without seeing him take at least a few bites.

"That sounds fun, doesn't it, Kei?" Akiteru asks, noticing his brother's blank glare at the rice as if he was having a staring contest with it.

Kei looks up at his brother, shooting him a quirked up brow. "You have no idea what shoots are like, do you?"

Akiteru nervously chuckles. "Ah, I guess not. I'm just a boring attorney."

"Well, I mean, I guess it depends on the shoot." Kei's sentence peters out into a mumble to take a timid bite of his rice.

"This one is going to be a fun one, okay?" Suga assures, elbowing Kei into his. "Now eat up if you want the energy for tomorrow!"

\--

Ukai Modeling Agency's (UMA) building looks like it's barricaded solely of mirrors. The rectangular grids wrapped around every inch and corner of the skyscraper-high-foundation, looking blue from the reflection of the sky bouncing off it. The intimidating look of the building only screamed wealth, being the most prestigious modeling agency in Japan.

"You're having a shoot for Karasuno Magazine," Yaku explains as they approach the entrance of the building after having gone through the gates. It was a fortress of multiple buildings banded within one wall, almost like it was an academy. "If you didn't know, the founder of UMA also founded Karasuno."

Which is why the two so-called separate companies worked a lot together. Karasuno is a celebrity lifestyle and modeling magazine that is technically a Japanese exclusive version of Vogue.

"I didn't come _here_ for my shoot with Karasuno last year." Kuroo lifts a brow, pulling the door open to half-expect the familiar lobby he had walked into before.

"They have a main studio not far from here," Yaku replies. "UMA is its own studio and agency."

"That's very correct!" A merry voice chimes happily. A man with wiry curled hair and glasses approaches the pair with a beaming smile. His eyes were round and he wore a green zip-up, almost like a young child that Kuroo almost mistook as a rookie intern of some sort.

But the man introduced himself as Takeda Ittetsu, a Karasuno photographer.

"I was awaiting your guys' arrival! Follow me this way and I'll take you to where you need to be." He motions ahead with a clean gesture of his hand, and they follow him down a carpeted hallway with insanely bright LED lights above their heads. Takeda presses the button for the elevator, a beaming glint in his eyes. "Was the trip here okay?"

"It was fine. Hard to miss a place like this." Yaku chuckles politely. He gives an expectant look at Kuroo for him to say something himself as well (Yaku isn't great at small talk), but Kuroo already had conversations in the bag.

The actor's an eloquent speaker with anyone he's faced with, so nattering with strangers feel like second nature to him. The elevator ride up to the twenty-eighth floor felt shorter than it should have, and when the metal doors drew open, it showed a plain metal vestibule. Very underwhelming, but when Takeda pushes the door open, it revealed a _massive_ studio. White backdrops, lighting and photography equipment, and set pieces filled the entire floor. One would think they were in a warehouse if they didn't know they were actually twenty-eight floors above ground.

Sugawara approaches Kuroo and Yaku, a greeting coming out his lips.

"Glad you guys could make it!" Suga is gleeful as always, smiling so much that his eyes squeezed shut. He was dressed in all black: just a t-shirt and black sweats. The same went for the others in the studio with them.

"Thanks for having us here," Yaku slaps a hand on Kuroo's back as if offering him up. "And I'm sure Kuroo is equally as glad." He made it sound like Kuroo wasn't at first.

Kuroo exchanged his greetings with Suga and the agent turns his shoulder with a hand motioning behind him. "Tsukki is already in his room. He had to be here earlier for an interview so he's a bit ahead."

There was another metal vestibule in the corner that Suga had to push through. It revealed a long carpeted hall lined with red doors on either wall. This hall wasn't as brightly lit as the one in the lobby, and it had a fancier but rugged look. Maybe because not many are seen in such a behind-the-scenes area like this. Suga approached the first door to the left labeled by a sleek plaque that read 'Fitting Room A'. He gave it two knocks.

Tsukki's muffled voice answers from the other side. "Come in."

The door is swung open fast by an enthusiastic Sugawara, and Tsukki flinches in his seat at the vanity, followed by a grumble. "Suga-san, one day you'll accidentally commit manslaughter with that door." There was a raven-haired lady by the blonde's side, blinking at the two guests that had followed behind Suga. She gives a silent, but a polite bow that the pair return back.

"Kiyoko, you probably already know who they are, right?" Suga steps back to allow the two parties to meet, and Kuroo steps up to the said Kiyoko woman to give a proper handshake and inviting smile. "This is Kiyoko Shimizu. She's the head manager and cosmetics specialist here."

Tsukki's eyes were watching the scene happen behind him through the reflection of the mirror. An elbow sat atop an armrest and his head leaned boringly into his hand, and Kuroo watched his golden eyes behind the lens of his glasses flicker up to meet his gaze. The bulbed lights at the vanity glowed on Tsukishima's pale skin, showing how remarkably flawless his complexion is. The model straightened up against his seat, no longer looking bored when Kuroo went to stand beside him.

The actor took note of this physical shift. "Why so anxious, Tsukki?" Kuroo's brow quirked up with a gaze coming from a tilted head.

"I don't know, maybe you'll do something stupid again," Tsukishima was looking at him through the mirror, and Kuroo decided to do the same. The actor did always have some romantic gestures up his sleeves, so he already knew what the blonde meant by 'stupid'.

"Stupid?" Mischief lights in his eyes as his hand reaches for Tsukki's to grasp. "Like this?" He lifts the blonde up from his seat with one sudden pull, but the pale hand is whisked away from his grasp in one swift motion.

Now standing, those golden eyes were forced to look at him. "Geez, making me get up and crap." Tsukki's face is unreadable like a blank canvas, except for the slight distress in the ivory skin between his brows. He dusts his hand off as if Kuroo was some contagious disease.

"Ah, my bad. Perhaps the princess prefers to be carried?" Kuroo gives a look on his face as if saying _don't say I won't cause I will._ And as perceptive as Tsukki is, he got the message as clear as day.

"I'd prefer not, thank you very much," Tsukki crosses his arms because, at this point, he wasn't sure what Kuroo is willing to do to mess with him. And he especially didn't want it to happen too often in front of their agents and his manager. "Go get changed already."

Kuroo was about to give a clever retort, but Yaku calls him over from the door. "He's right, you need to get changed you damn horny baboon."

"Horny baboon? That's a first, Yakkun." He's heard rooster head, dumbass, and boogieman, but never a horny baboon. His agent sure is getting creative. Kuroo gives Tsukishima one last lingering look. "Saved by my agent, aren't you? Well, see you on set then, Tsukki."

A nonchalant whistle pipes out the agent's mouth as he leaves the fitting room with a shut door behind him. Tsukishima heaves out a sigh with a hand raising to palm his face.

Shit, he's growing hot in the cheeks again.

\--

Modeling has always been particularly easy for Tsukishima. His shoulders are naturally lax, accentuating his slender form whenever he has to get in a certain pose. Direct him where he should go, and he'll do it. He's flexible like that and easy to work with. His hair was purposely messed with to give it a tousled look, and his individual photoshoot called for a shot of him sitting on a chair, backward. The angle of the camera shifted in every direction. Above, below, to the side.

Tsukki's arms lay atop the back of the chair, his legs on either side of the seat. He framed his face by leaning his head on an arm, flashing a golden-eyed stare at the camera that was as piercing as always. Takeda shouted words of praise, telling the model that he was looking great and to shift an inch or two. There were standing shots taken after that session, and that's when Tsukishima noticed the burning stare of the raven-haired actor just beyond the blinding lights of the equipment.

A lingering stare was given by the model (on fucking purpose) to the actor, and Kuroo grinned smugly. It was like a little game, tantalizing and attractive. Tsukishima is obscure but mysterious, and that's exactly what makes him so appealing. Does he even realize it?

Takeda pulls away from the viewfinder of his camera and looks back at Kuroo, full knowing that he's been patiently waiting for the joined photoshoot to begin. "Kuroo-san, it looks like you're about ready to jump in." He spoke as if Kuroo was his senior.

"Ready to _dive_ in." Kuroo straightens up and catwalks it down to the white backdropped set and emerges out from the darkness in Tsukki's point of view. Kuroo keeps his distance, a drawled look raking down and back up at the blonde. "Looking hot and trendy as always, Tsukki." He wore a white button-down that was half-tucked into mildly baggy blue jeans, white Adidas (these were his own pair though), and an oversized thick red plaid cardigan that was becoming tempting to strip off under the heat of the lights.

The outfit only worked on Tsukishima because of how lean he is. "Thanks, I guess." That's all the blonde responds with, eyes drifting off. How cold.

"Are you not going to compliment me?" Kuroo chuckles lightheartedly and gives a light nudge at Tsukki's arm, and the latter frowns.

"You look nice too, Kuroo-san." The words were hesitant, but they were still said.

Though, Kuroo looked _leagues_ more than just 'nice'. Tsukishima is frugal with his words, especially with someone like Kuroo fucking Tetsurou. His black button-down tucked into his deep crimson slacks, brown lace-up combat boots, topped off with a sleek black overcoat. He looks like he's about ready to slay a business meeting.

A table is brought on set, along with some books and a few chairs to create the setting of a humble cafe. The set pieces were being ornately and specifically placed to paint 'a perfect shot', and to whatever Takeda thought looked best. The models are just another prop on the set, which is what Tsukishima always thought when he went to shoots. He never really found himself to be the main focus of a shot.

"So, we're supposed to look like a _couple_ aren't we?" Kuroo's voice rumbled beside Tsukki's ear, letting him know that he was standing just behind the blonde. As much as Tsukishima felt his skin ready to jump, he kept still and put up an indifferent front.

"That's the goal, isn't it?" Tsukishima matches the same obscure tone as Kuroo, not daring to look back and catch his eyes. 

The smell of lemongrass on Tsukishima caught Kuroo by surprise. He was close enough to kiss his head if he leaned forwards just a few. Maybe he should, just to get a reaction out of him.

An elbow jabs into Kuroo's gut, causing him to stumble back. It was as if Tsukishima just read Kuroo's thoughts. "You're too close, Kuroo-san," Tsukki mumbles almost embarrassingly and looks back at those hazel eyes. Surprisingly, the model puts on a shit-eating grin. "Don't lose to your instincts so soon."

"I'm not primal, Tsukki." Kuroo snorts, straightening out his coat to pocket his hands into his slacks. Tsukishima only huffed amusingly before angling himself for the shoot once Takeda returned to his camera.

"Alright, we're good to go!"

Tsukishima was silently impressed with Kuroo's modeling ability. And it went vice versa as well. Kuroo couldn't take his attention off him. Tsukishima's willowy figure mesmerized the actor. The way his aloof eyes transformed into another form of indifferent. Appealing, suspenseful, and curious. And Kuroo had to match that energy.

The two's chemistry on the set is fluid and easy to work with. Extremely natural to the point they look like they've done it together before. And everyone on the crew was buying just what the two were selling.

Although, Tsukishima was both subconscious _and_ consciously avoiding close contact with the star actor. Kuroo would inch close, and then the blonde would turn away. He would reach over for an intimate gesture, and Tsukki would readjust, simply pretending he didn't notice. Such a public display of affection is certainly not Tsukishima's favorite experience (very uncomfortable, in fact), and he wondered how the hell he is going to do this in the _actual_ public.

His golden eyes looked up at the camera and immediately felt a chill when he saw Suga behind Takeda, deliberately standing there so Tsukki could see the agent's burning eyes and subtle but livid hand gestures that motioned for him to get closer to Kuroo. He looked unmistakably annoyed, and why wouldn't he be? Suga's been watching Tsukishima completely ignore and brush off Kuroo's attempts at pulling on the show, and if he didn't start playing his part, it won't play up later on.

Suga mouthed the words aggressively, _stop avoiding him!_

A hushed sigh escapes Tsukishima's lips, knowing that he can't elude from the deal that _he_ had agreed to. So he gets up from where he was sitting at the table. Kuroo was standing just beside it, about to initiate another attempt on him, but the insatiable blonde beats him to it by gripping onto the opened front of the overcoat and forcing a bold pull to bring him into his space.

Kuroo trips forward clumsily, a small break in the grace they had occupied for so long, but is resumed when Tsukishima stumbles back into the table (which ultimately prevented a disastrous fall). A brief screech of the table leg against the floor sounds, Tsukki cursing himself for being such an idiot for losing his nerves when he pulled Kuroo in. But it left them in an intimate pose with Tsukishima leaning against the edge of the table, causing him to appear a few centimeters shorter than Kuroo, who was slightly bent forward to be just a fraction away from the model's face. His hand was on the table beside Tsukki, having attempted to catch himself from falling. And the latter's hands were still on the actor's coat, loosely gripped now.

_Click, click._

The golden eyes are much more mesmerizing up close. Kuroo was pleasantly surprised the pull, maybe even turning him on a bit. The scent of lemongrass was breathable now, and he watched Tsukki's eyes dart down and back up from his lips to eyes. Kuroo obviously can't tell, but Tsukki's heart screamed against his chest like a damn siren. He was surprised no one could hear it because Tsukishima certainly could. But his expression: still unbothered.

Fuck, he's like a magnet, because Kuroo's hand raises to angle Tsukki's chin and goes to brush a thumb slowly down his soft lips. The same ones he had kissed last weekend.

_Click, click_.

"I'm not going primal," Kuroo smirks. "Not today." And he pulls himself off the model to create space between them, leaving Tsukishima bewildered with cold air in his presence.

\--

The shoot had gone very well, and Kuroo immediately stripped off the coat as soon as Takeda called it a day. "It's as hot as the sun, damn." He fanned himself desperately, with Yaku handing him a cup of water that Kuroo downs in just a few gulps.

Tsukishima escaped the burning lights as well, meeting Suga halfway who tugged at the cardigan for Tsukki to take off. The blonde did as he was encouraged, glancing at Kuroo who also returned a glance (and a damn wink of course). Tsukishima only had a sour look at the sight, turning back to his beaming agent with furiously flustered thoughts. The damn guy seriously succeeded in making him panic internally, and it was a victory for Kuroo that he wasn't even aware of.

"You looked like some hot stuff up there, Tsukki!" Suga says excitedly while handing the model a cold bottle of water.

"You're sounding like Kuroo-san, please stop." Tsukki frowned as he twisted the bottle cap open to take a sip.

"What about me sounds like me?" Kuroo purrs behind Tsukishima, damn near having him choke on his water.

"Nothing," Tsukishima replies blandly. Both he and Yaku faced him, looking like they were about to request something. Suga praised Kuroo for his work, and the actor thanked him humbly.

"Though, I'm nothing like the master himself," Kuroo raises a slight smirk at the blonde.

Tsukishima could just feel the thirst coming from the actor.

"Tomorrow's the premiere event of The Pitch," Kuroo announces out of the blue. Though, Tsukishia could feel it leading somewhere. "A film Oikawa recently starred in _and_ an event I've been invited to attend and promote."

"And?" Tsukishima asks.

"And I want you to be my plus one," Kuroo shoots Suga a look to direct the inquiry at him. "If he's free tomorrow."

"I don't know, am I free tomorrow-"

"As of now, he is!" Suga slaps a hand on Tsukki's back without warning and laughs happily. "Which is now occupied by the premiere."

A silent, disgruntled look flashes on Tsukishima's face. No matter what he seems to do, it's like his agent is really starting to try and get the model and actor together. For real.

"Awesome, fantastic! I'll have a ride pick you up," Kuroo's smile was too genuine for Tsukki's liking. Kuroo looks down at Yaku. "Right, Yakkun?"

"Yeah, yeah. We'll be there at 3 PM sharp." Yaku urges Kuroo ahead. "Now hurry up, you have an interview in eight minutes. Chop chop!"

"Alright, alright- hey, don't pinch me!" Kuroo exclaims. He spares a moment to give Tsukishima a charming wave. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, Tsukki. Dress pristinely for the red carpet." And another damn wink.

Fuck the red carpet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've parked my ass in my chair so much so that the cushion is starting to tear lmao.  
> I've smol af so I always sit criss-cross in seats so maybe that's why. I'm also hurting my back. But it's okay because FAN FICTION.  
> Let me know what you thought of this chapter!  
> See you in the next :]

**Author's Note:**

> FEEL FREE TO GIVE FEEDBACK!!


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